Oblique Effect
by Verdot
Summary: Tifa ponders the strange runaway relationship that she and Cid have fallen into. Companion piece to Isoceles Syndrome.


**. . . Oblique Effect . . .**

**_Oblique Triangle:_**_ A triangle characterized by one angle that is greater than ninety degrees, and another two smaller but unequal angles. It has an off balance appearance._

This doesn't happen in real life. It just doesn't.

I was always the responsible one. The dependable one. The... hell, the doormat. 'Come and wipe your feet all over her, she won't feel it at all'. That was me. Grin and bear it. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was bad.

"You awake yet?" he asks, a low rumble next to me. I'd kicked off all the covers, and he's wrapped up like a cocoon. It works. And if I don't answer, he'll go back to sleep and let me sort things out in my mind.

Snoring. Right on cue. Like clockwork.

Now, I can hear myself berating myself already. If that makes any sense. You know, the rules of war and all that sort of thing. The rules that I'd remember my father used to tell me.

I think I've broken all the rules my father used to tell me. He was always so protective of me, considering I was the only fragment of his wife left. I used to resent him for it, resent him for many things. But outliving your father at fifteen changes a few things.

But that was then. This is now. Daddy would be freaking. I know that. This isn't proper Lockheart behavior.

There is a romantic notion in running away with someone. Believe me; I still feel it to some extent. And it's been some time since we ran away. Well, not really... well, yes. We ran away.

Cid and I.

We're settled in a no name town far from the Midgar settlements. Far from Barret, who I'd distanced from so he could get to know his daughter, and far from... them. And this doesn't include Cloud. Because I've learned that Cloud isn't real... not the way I always saw him. Cloud is... a good man. I'm sure he's fine.

They are... Shera, whom I fear speaking to out of guilt, and Vincent... for the same reason. I had no right to steal him, I didn't, but it just... happened.

So here we are now. Runaways. Romantic notions.

"Alright, I know you're awake," his voice is always so heavy when he wakes up, "And I ain't intending on snoring any more. What's buggin ya?"

It's so easy to love him.

"Oh, the usual... I think my father's rolling in his grave, I've abandoned four of my best friends now, and I can't help but wonder how long this is going to keep up." Way to go, honest and bold Tifa. Well, not really that bold, but bold enough.

"That all?" he says, and shifts up onto his elbow so he can look down on me. He likes to hover like that, and I'll never figure out why. He hasn't smoked since yesterday, and he still smells like it. I've learned that despite the fact it would rot out _my_ body, it suits his just nicely.

I don't want to change him. Maybe that's what I like about him.

"Yes, that's _all_." Should I be annoyed that he blew that off so easily? Probably. But he leans down and kisses me on the forehead. Oh, I'm such a contact whore.

"I can't fix ya, ya know?" he says, grinning again, "Though... I don't see anything wrong from here..." He lifts up the sheet. Maybe that's why he hovers.

"Dirty old man." He continues to leer in the most charming manner.

"Tease."

---

It started, rather abruptly, like our running away. I reminisce sometimes, watching him as he works on the plane we bought off of a kid that didn't have Cid's bargaining skills. Poor guy didn't even stand a chance.

Cid _has_ to fly, though. Sure, the one we used to get here in the first place was good... but he deserves a fleet of them. Our combined savings is enough to do that. Adventuring pays well if it's dangerous. We certainly had dangerous.

But the start. Right. See, we--being Shera, Vincent, and I--we all ended up living together. Shera, because she owned the house, Cid, because he used to own it, and Vincent... because I don't think he had anywhere else to go.

And me? Well, the place that I had in the New Midgar settlements... I gave it to Barret instead. The settlements weren't far from Rocket Town, and I wanted to distance myself from him... he couldn't just rely on me to raise he daughter. It's selfish, and I know he cares... but he was getting wrapped up in his own affairs... doing things _for_ her, but not _with_ her.

But anyway, Shera offered for me to stay there until I figured things out. Cloud had already gone off wandering, and I think I already accepted it. Because he wasn't chasing a phantom... he was finding _himself_. I could respect that.

I was happy there. With them... a messed up sort of family. Shera, such a motherly thing with me. I was used to doing that, and I had to admit, I was relieved when I didn't have to act that way.

It surprised me, but Cid never really factored. He was just so comfortable to be around... and I only register men by how much trouble they cause me. Sad, but true. It was Vincent that really caught my attention... broken men were especially tempting to me.

But he remained cold and distant with me. Sometimes he'd snap advice or just simply nod at me. He was fairly friendly with Cid, and with Shera... there was an understanding.

The abruptness. Right. Anyway, I felt out of the loop. So, I started to handle most of the meals, so Shera could do more in the hangar, so no one would have to worry. Doormat, as always. But one morning, Shera had been gone to go barter for parts, and Vincent had been sent to make sure that no nasties ate her on the way.

I was just waiting for Cid to wake up... the whole house smelled like pancakes. And it was raining, too. I had just finished up the last batch on the griddle when I felt a hand snake around my waist. Automatic response: kick their ass. But before I could even flinch, I heard a voice next to my ear.

"Yanno, a man could want to have children with a woman like you." I smelled the tobacco on his breath, but no alcohol. That was a smell that I could catch nearly a mile away. Despicable stuff.

And as sudden as it happened, it was over, and he was sitting at the table, waiting patiently for pancakes. I almost dropped the plate on the way, too. He acted like nothing had happened, being his usual talkative, but not necessarily cheery self. So I convinced myself that I was hallucinating.

But in the month or two that followed, I would find little gifts, flowers mostly, tucked in amongst my laundry, or in a drawer in my room. Various places. Nothing expensive, nothing complicated... but always something that made me feel a little giddy, like a schoolgirl.

I was dealing with a pro.

It was on another bartering session, when we had the house alone, that he made his next move. And while I was cooking again. But this time, I was prepared. For when I felt him slowly stride up behind me, and that hand sneak around my waist, I turned around sharply. He didn't look surprised.

"Children?" I asked, feeling a little bold for once. He smirked.

"Well, I was just hopin' for the sex this time, but we can try that too." Smooth talker. He must have been absolutely dangerous when he was younger. And I could see why Shera had spent so many years on him, too.

But I wasn't thinking about her when I kissed him. Nor when we got to the other things we tried out in the kitchen. I was glad that he bothered me once I was done making the food. Sure, the grits got cold, and the eggs weren't so runny anymore. There were no complaints from either of us.

Yes, it was rash of me... but it felt good to be wanted. I may not have been in _love_ with him then, but the attraction was there. He didn't give me much room to change my mind either when it all started... it just _did_.

Quite a bit, in fact. He always had such good timing... finding the half hour or more here and there when the other two were occupied. I took to wearing skirts again, and wearing my hair loose... I never knew when he'd strike. It was exciting, it was devious.

It was hard not to love him. It was. Even though we never vocalized anything; I didn't need it. Needy Tifa was someone who would follow Cloud, needy Tifa was someone who would moon over Vincent for no real reason.

I think Vincent knew. He saw the looks Cid and I would throw each other, or caught me with my hair disheveled walking out of a workshop. He was always observant.

But Shera... if she did know, she must have been blocking it out of her mind. And yes, I did feel guilty. I'm just selfish sometimes, and someone genuinely _wanted_ me. I couldn't worry about everyone's happiness.

It was after one of our longer private sessions that he proposed the _idea_. And in typical Cid fashion, too.

"Tifa... fly away with me. We'll take that one ship I've been working on... and just... fly away." I would have thought he was kidding, that this was some pillow talk ploy to get more out of me, but his face... It was serious. And like that first time in the kitchen, I didn't think before I jumped right in.

"When?" was all I had to say. We left the next morning, stopping only enough time for me to write a quick note, and to withdraw our savings.

And here we are... just outside a small town not far from the ocean. I watch as he throws parts that he finds "unnecessary" from the plane he just cheated some poor boy out of.

I'm still waiting on those children.

---

"Did ya spend the whole day sittin' around and daydreamin?" he asks, dinnertime, and I'm still cooking. I love it, though, because it's something I'm good at. It's something that makes me useful.

"Sorry, just sorting things out in my head," I reply, stirring my mashed potatoes with a spoon. He finishes his food with a big gulp of water and clears everything away.

I don't know why I feel... a little down. This is still exciting, and he's still here. He knows who he is, and he knows what he's doing, what he loves. Maybe that's it, I need confirmation. Maybe I am still kind of needy.

"Ya still wanting to have those kids?" Always so abrupt. My Cid is.

"Why?" Back to being hesitant Tifa. No more mashed potatoes for me tonight, though.

"Cause typically, it's a good idea to get married first." I drop the spoon before launching at him. I'm still strong enough to take a man his size down, and I do, nearly crying on him while he's smooshed under me on the floor.

"I take it that's a good sign," he says, sliding something that looks like it fell off of one of the planes on my finger. No diamonds, luckily. Just what I would expect from him... just what I would want.

What's with us and kitchen floors?

It doesn't matter. Maybe... maybe someday I'll see everyone. Maybe I'll get him to say he loves me without sex involved... maybe I won't. Maybe it won't matter.

My leftover mashed potatoes get cold. But neither of us complain.

* * *

AN: This has been sitting half done on my hard drive for quite some time. And I really wanted to write something. Wedding's almost upon me, so lots of things going on. Been in a happier mood because of this, so that explains the tone of this story. Hope ya'll like. 


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